The Real Meaning of the State Department RIF

RIP—er, RIF, State Department as we knew you.

One of my early duties during my over two and a half decades working for the State Department was to “support” Secretary of State James Baker’s official visit to London.

I read up on current policy, made sure I had my passwords and combinations in hand in case they needed crucial documents from the embassy after hours, and shined my shoes. Baker traveled with a large party, taking up a whole floor in a very nice central London hotel. Then I got a taste of real Foreign Service life: My first task was to make sure every TV in all the rooms worked. After Baker arrived, I was to get the required wake-up time for each member of the staff and, at the conclusion of my overnight shift the next morning, call each to summon them to breakfast, despite the hotel having a very nice complimentary service that did just that same thing. Later I became known as “Ambassador to Harrod’s” after having to escort so many Mrs. Important Somebodies shopping while hubby was on a diplomatic business trip to the UK.

While there were of course better days, and things may have changed since I left, I can’t guarantee you that a Foreign Service officer (FSO; no doubt a “special assistant”) isn’t right now walking two steps behind some assistant secretary, carrying his briefcase for him. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t shed too many tears alongside those who claim recent staff cuts at State are the end of diplomacy or ceding territory to the Chinese or any such nonsense.

State is a bloated, corpulent, insular, risk-averse, academically inbred, stifling, overly bureaucratic, back-stabbing, stodgy, mid-20th century institution that lost its mojo after the Cold War ended; everyone who worked there would admit it if they weren’t afraid of the “corridor reputation” that drives promotions, assignments, and retirement gigs at think tanks and universities. In Senate testimony, the current Secretary of State Marco Rubio complained the State Department decision-making process was far too cumbersome. He described receiving a memo requiring 40 people to approve before it landed on his desk. “We can’t move at that pace in this world,” Rubio said.